


played from the bedside

by strangertones



Category: A Courtesan of Rome (Visual Novel), Choices: Stories You Play, PlayChoices
Genre: (blows kiss towards hell) miss u antony, Anal Fingering, F/M, Fluff, I'm sorry?, NSFW Alphabet, NSFW Alphabet Meme, Rimming, Smut, Submissive Antony, i'll add to this as i go on, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-14 23:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18486940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangertones/pseuds/strangertones
Summary: i came in from the outside, burned out from a joy rideshe likes to roll here in my ashes anywaya marc antony/mc nsfw alphabet, except it's drabbles instead of headcanons





	1. A is for Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

> look, okay, if PB is leaving us in a hiatus this long, i can't be faulted for writing self-indulgent garbage like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go thotties

He was a cuddler, and she didn't expect that.

Out of all the adjectives one could use to describe Marc Antony,  _sweet_  was not one of them. And yet, here he was, face buried in Reyona's curls, arms wrapped protectively around her. "You're amazing, you know that?" he would whisper in her ear, words slurred but sincere, "Absolutely stunning. The most beautiful woman in the world."

She'd laugh in response, a soft sound, music to his ears.

Some nights he'll ask her, “Stay with me?”

And always, she'd answer, “Where else would I go?”

And he would hold her, just like that, tracing patterns on her back. Reyona would be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his lips on her forehead.


	2. B is for Body Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok listen,,, i'm a bad writer and a chronic procrastinator so,, updates are gonna be Not Regular™. i'm sorry for that and also for this even existing

It was the lips that always spelled trouble for him.  _Just_ —

The way she smirks right before something wicked comes out of them. When he's done something right and she beams, teeth bared. ~~It almost makes him want to do things right, for once.~~

And there's this move that she does—she'll drag her fingers up her figure, up her collarbone, across her neck, before settling them on her lips. And then she  _very lightly_  kisses them. Reyona never breaks eye contact, and he is driven  _mad_. She loves doing it in public, too, testing to see how much she can get away with, how  _awful_  she can be, and if he'll do anything about it.

He does, sometimes. The announcer's box at the arena has seen much.


	3. C is for Cum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made these out of order which may not have been smart but uhh

Marc Antony, half-reformed street rat, is fond of messes. He has broken many goblets and destroyed countless statues in his day. Reyona would know; desecrating the Senate Basilica in more ways than one remains a fond memory for both of them. Then there's his habit of sweeping his arm across the nearest surface to clear it, sending whatever objects are on it flying, when he's determined to have her and can't stand to wait another minute.

Needless to say, he likes making a mess of things, and that includes _her_.

It doesn't matter where his cum goes, really, so long as it's _on_ her or _in_ her. Just the image of Reyona, usually so composed, not a hair out of place, suddenly so thoroughly _ravaged_ —

Now, for instance. Her hair is disheveled from him pulling on it, her lips pink and swollen from his kiss. He has her on her knees when he comes. She swallows most of it—always does, and gods, _that's_ a whole other thing he could wax poetic about—but there's a drop left on the corner of her mouth. When he drags his thumb across her lips to wipe it off, she grabs his hand, envelops her still-red lips around his thumb, and _sucks_.

" _Gods_ , woman. You'll be the death of me one day," Antony groans, and he means it.

Oh, but if _this_ is how he dies, he wouldn’t mind it at all.


	4. D is for Dirty Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god will one day send me to hell and it is a dramatic reading of this that i'll be hearing the whole way down

It wasn’t something he ever confessed outright. She had stumbled across it on accident.

By now this is a familiar position for them—Antony on his back, legs spread, and Reyona between them, his cock in her mouth. It’s such a regular thing that Reyona knows exactly how he likes it best. She knows that he likes it when she pays attention to his balls too—when she gently massages them as her head bobs up and down on his cock, when her tongue would explore the skin just south of them.

What she didn’t know is that if she ventures even lower than that, if her tongue grazes his entrance, Marc Antony _whimpers_.

She almost doesn’t hear it. _Perhaps it was the wind_ , she thinks, because she had never heard him make any sound even close to that before. So she tries again, licks a stripe from his hole to his balls, and chuckles lightly—almost in disbelief—when he whimpers again.

Oh. _Oh_. Now _that_ is a delicious sound. One she’d like to draw out as much as she can, so this time there is no hesitation when she places the flat of her tongue right against him, licking with fervor.

Antony catches on. “You naughty girl. Just what—” his breath hitches “—do you think you’re doing?”

She smiles up at him, cheeky. “I’ve discovered something.”

“Have you now?”

“Mhm.”

“And what are you going to do with this discovery?”

Her nails bite into his thighs as she raises herself. She kisses her way up his chest, his neck, his jawline, and the heat from her body is a welcome feeling. “Marc Antony,” she says, voice so low it sends shivers up his spine, before she sucks on her own fingers, cheeks hollowed. She takes them out of her mouth with a pop, and whispers into his ear, “I'm going to _ruin_ you.”

Slick fingers stroke his rim, and Antony thinks he's forgotten how to breathe. He grips her hair when she lowers again, continuing her earlier ministrations, tongue thrusting in and out, but he makes no move to stop her. Soon he's wet and relaxed enough that when she pushes one finger in, there's nearly no resistance. Then she pushes in a second. Antony has to keep himself from biting his own tongue.

He's putty in her hands. When her fingers brush against his prostate, he bucks his hips and lets out a loud moan. “ _Fu-u-uck_.”

“Ah. _There_ it is.” His eyes are closed but he knows she’s smirking.

Once she found that spot, she doesn't let up, curling her fingers in just the right way over and over and over, and he thinks he might be losing his mind. Gods, she was always so good at pushing his buttons, Antony just never knew that truth to be quite so _literal_.

“I like you like this, Antony. Pliant. Submissive. _Mewling_.”

He forces his voice to steady as he tightens the grip on her hair. “Make no mistake, my dear. I am still in control. Always.”

“Are you sure about that?”

At that, she takes his cock in her mouth again, her idle hand pumping the base. It’s not fair, he thinks, how good she is at this. Not fair how she can make his hips buck with a flick of her tongue, or have him moaning into his pillow every time her fingers brush that spot inside him. It's not fair that she can challenge him, take down his mask, make a mess of him, treat him like no one else in Rome can. It's not fucking fair that she gets to have that kind of power over him.

Marc Antony doesn't just allow that to happen. He doesn't _submit_. To anyone.

Not ever.

But when he comes, mind hazy and her name on his lips, he realizes that like all things, she is the exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway happy hoe-ly week i guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> P.S. antony gets pegged send tweet


End file.
